Inside The Circle
by Storyseekr
Summary: Scarlett and Snake-Eyes spend a little introspective time together in the High Sierras. Based loosely on the Comic-verse. Rated M for possible minor language, adult themes, and innuendo.
1. Chapter 1

Background:

I wrote this story long ago, and at the time, there was precious little in the way of Snake Eyes/Scarlett to be found on the Net, and most of those were written by authors who seemed to be unsure how to write such a pairing, or how to portray Snake Eyes in general. For example, one thing that really bothered me back in the day was an awkward tenancy to make it a Big Deal that no one, not even Scarlett, could handle the exposure of Snake Eyes' face, so much so that there was a juvenile comedy element to it. I thought that any issues to be had honestly, were further below the surface and centered on Snake Eyes' neurosis than was currently being written. A neurotic ninja? Heh. I was inspired to try my hand to see how I thought they would really interact as a couple, privately, with the societal masks removed. This was written well before the movie, or even before the Snake Eyes: Declassified/Scarlett: Declassified miniseries', so the details are not going to follow canon. Some of you might recognize this story as an edited version of the original that I published on another site a few years back. With the release of the movie, and renewed interest in G.I. Joe, I thought I'd re-post it here for a new audience. I have cut the more mature content from it so it could be posted here, but I think it's still a decent little introspective piece.

Setting: This takes place very early in the original Marvel comics Greatest American Hero run, and very early in the SE/S romance, shortly after the famous 'silent' comics issue, in which Scarlett is captured by Stormshadow and taken to Destro's castle. For those who never read it, Snake Eyes goes to rescue her and ends up fighting Stormshadow. Scarlett and Snakes facilitate an escape after a fierce ninja battle and it is revealed for the first time ever that there might be some kind of connection between Snake Eyes and the villain Stormshadow as both of their newly battle tattered costumes reveal identical red hexigram tattoos.

We join our two new lovebirds on Scarlett's first visit to his cabin in the High Sierras only days after the rescue mission to Destro's castle.

As always, GI Joe and all the usual suspect characters do not belong to me, and I make no profit in the writing of this work of fan appreciation. Critique and Comments totally welcome!

Happy Reading!

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Inside The Circle

Chapter 1: Follow

The High Sierras are without a doubt the most beautiful place on God's green earth. I can say this with some satisfaction, because I've seen most of it. I could say they sing because of their stark beauty and breathtaking views, but I'll be honest, I think it has more to do with him.

He loves it here. The silence, and solitude, and the rugged challenge; Sometimes I'm not really sure if they are a reflection of him or he of them. Of course I'm here because of him. Which is funny, because following a man's footsteps, even in the name of love, is the last thing I'd have expected of myself.

A woman had to be four times tougher, smarter, and faster than her male counterparts to get ahead in the military. I do it for me. I knew I had to be.

I did everything they threw at me. Then when this impressed somebody, I trained the troops in what I'd learned. I didn't hesitate under pressure. Beyond that was the inevitable glass ceiling that the Good Ol' Boys had in place for every woman who wanted to serve her country. The same one all of my fellow soldiers had in place for me, no matter what their best intentions were; That unspoken machismo that had them protecting me, or slapping me down to a greater or lesser degree. They were just so big, so strong, so needing to prove their own worth. Fact of life old girl. Suck it up, and moved on. I prove myself all over again on their terms every single day, with grit and determination, and being just that good.

It never hurt to offer a smile and a little bit of grace while I was at it. And thank you ma'am, I was one of the first women to make Special Counter-terrorist Group Delta: THE first woman on the G.I. Joe team to be sent into a hostile zone with my own command. Not too shabby for a little gal from Georgia. I like to think I paved the way for my sister soldiers, just as the WAAFs and WACs all our other sisters did for me.

Sometimes I think I failed them. I had to go and fall in love. Truth of the matter is, I guess Granny was right: When it hits you girl, it hits you right between the eyes and there's nothing you can do about it.

He caught my eye from the start of course, with a profile that was need to know and the favor of Abernathy himself. Quiet even then, he'd had a strength in him. In a world surrounded by macho personalities, he stood out. He'd stepped onto the mat, and taken his lumps like every other soldier. He had nothing to prove. He didn't try to be the best, he just was. That was all, and that was everything.

He intrigued the hell out of me. His aloof separation-what the other soldiers instinctively viewed as Grade A bad attitude. No, it was something more. That air of mystery had me responding on some visceral reptile level to him. I was only human. And beyond that… I've never seen a man so utterly alone in my whole life and that right there pulled on me. I was all protective and hot under the collar at the same time. When you have the perfect silent, strong hero, you can only hold out so long right?

So, just concentrate on business girl. Be all I can be. Hoo-Rah. We were just companions and teammates who worked amazingly well together. It didn't mean anything that we anticipated each other's responses with an intuition bordering on scary…or that I just knew where to find him at any given time on duty or off. It didn't mean anything important. Just good friends, right?

Then came the helicopter crash in the Saudi desert. He'd saved my life and darn near lost his own with shrapnel and third degree burns to his face and throat. I don't want to know what was done to keep him from strangling from the edema or bleeding out trying to complete the mission afterwords. It damaged more than just the superficial bits on his head though. Coming out of the hospital, he wouldn't have anything to do with me. Me. I was one of the few who'd ever gotten inside that wall in the first place.

What surprised me was how much it hurt. Not for me so much…at least not after that first bit-After rehab and retraining, he came back to duty just fine-but later, for him.

It was more than his mute silence that kept folks from having a decent conversation with him.

I was the one who took sign language right along with him and half the time you'd think his hands were as broken as his throat for all the talking he did. Add to that those damn masks. I hate them and everything they stand for-a shield and a shame that someone like him shouldn't make himself carry. Scars aren't shameful. They say you survived. They say you beat the awful things that tried to break you.

So of course I badgered the hell out of him. He hated my guts for a while, but I'm not one to give up on any soldier. Especially him. It took him long enough to come around this much. But don't you know, if a thing's worth having, it's worth taking time on.

It must have worked. Here I sit at the end of the mountains with a rock jabbing my butt through these blue jeans. Not really sure how long, I've just been sitting here, staring at him down by the water. I can't keep my eyes off of him while he meditates.

To watch him move! Walking through through his katas with a sublime grace that I'll never have in a million years.

He takes the masks off when it's just the two of us. It's always a relief to see his true face. Lord he's beautiful; Flawed and perfect. It hurts to look at him too. Every scar on his body reflects a scar inside. That anyone could have such pain in their lives and triumph so well.

Every mark a testament to his warrior stats and his will to survive as much as any smooth line of muscle and sinew, just as much as the peace radiating from him while he meditates is a testament to his strength and control. Makes me want to slip down there and trace my hands over that beautiful totality. He's like that water rippling by his side: Still and peaceful one moment, hard and unstoppable the next. I feel like nothing could stand against him.

Mmmm…Like a glass of water, I feel like I could drink him right down just looking at him.

Yeah I'm smiling, Snake Eyes. You see me up here thinking things about you?

Snake Eyes. In all the time I've known him, I've never called him anything else. It's what he is.

It's like those scars I've decided. It doesn't change what my guts and heart tell me about him. He doesn't need a name be what he's come to mean to me. Brother in arms, friend, lover, confidant, sometimes even protector.

It doesn't matter to me anymore, those little bits he can't share if he isn't ready. He sure accepts me as I am. Not too many men you can say that about with a tough as nails soldier girl with something to prove. So, I guess I'll just continue to ruin my spotless reputation as a liberated woman, and follow him to the ends of the world, or the High Sierras, whichever is closer. At least that's what I tell myself. I can't hide the truth though, and I'll show him every way he'll let me: that man is my other half.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Master

She watched him.

Even through the still and static buzz of meditation he was aware of her on the ridge, and through the insistent beat of his own body's effort he traced her presence with his senses. She smelled like clean sweat and clover, thick and sweet like her southern summers. The molten slide of her hair, so rarely set loose, she'd let it fall free today, he'd noticed. The warmth of her skin gave it a flushed glow in the early autumn sun. Oh yeah, he was aware of her. He was always aware of her, even when he didn't want to be.

He stretched, a low, gracefully wide stance, and his arms worked like slow pistons through martial exercises. His feet followed in deliberate placement, eyes slid closed, letting his body move through space by touch, sound, and scent. He inhaled sweat and clover, and the rhythm faltered. He frowned, pausing.

He opened his eyes, flicking them sideways towards the stone on the ridge above him, utterly distracted. He'd been ordered on R & R after the memorial for Flagg along with several other Joes who'd been on heavy rotation. When she'd offered to come with him, he'd accepted out of habit and obligation, though at the time he'd doubted his need to have her here. She was equal parts comfort and unwelcome disruption.

She wasn't the only thing. She wasn't even the main thing. That was Tommy. He'd been meditating all day, struggling to regain some damn sense of self, and center. But all he kept seeing was Tommy. The mission to Destro's castle had floored him. He'd spent the last few years full of anger and grief over the circumstances of their last meeting. But to see Tommy a fortnight ago! He hadn't known it was him at first. It had taken a few days for his waking mind to catch up with what his subconscious was trying to tell him. It was a fist in his gut when it had finally dawned on him who he'd faced on the castle wall, well and truly having cast aside all honor, all loyalties, to work for terrorists! And now, here, all he could think of as he turned it over and over in his mind was how might he, himself, have done things differently.

So, she wasn't the only thing. But his mind's eye still traced the curve of her ear. The faint swelling along the side of her face. The barely noticeable yellow-green of a healing bruise that still discolored her left eye. She would have put it all behind her, but he couldn't. Not that she'd been beaten up so much, but that Stormshadow had done it. Unfinished business that he was partially responsible for. His past had almost killed her.

His eyes squeezed tightly shut and he tried to focus.

Breathe in again. Contract, turn, and exhale.

He turned and struck. Wood splintered and bark showered onto the litter. The impact thudded with satisfying bone-jarring force up his palm, and through his body, and through the length of the tree beside him. He sighed. A target helped to center him, so that his inside matched his outward demeanor. He struck again, reversing his body and sending the heel of his palm through a branch to a point 3 inches beyond. The branch shattered. Strike solid wood with a body of stone. Palm, fist, shin, foot, his body was an engine of controlled violence.

Violence and duty. Duty though violence. This was a life he hadn't initially sought- the Draft had done that for him- but one for which he was well suited. It was an acceptable channel for the youthful anger, and giving the willful kid he'd been, a measure of self-discipline, and a focus for his determined drive.

Abandoning the broken tree, he flowed seamlessly once more into meditative Kata, though the emptiness he sought skipped just touchingly beyond his ability. He closed his eyes once more, working, as he always did, to master himself, even as his mind jumped through memory and emptiness, and now.

Striving for mastery he'd done from his earliest memories; as a small boy, struggling with a disability and for his father's approval; as a young teen, struggling for his worth as a young man. Clinging to the support of his sister, and drawn to the calm example of an ailing neighbor, a man who showed him the true meaning of being a man more than his father had ever done. Vietnam had pushed him even further. It immersed him in the duality of loyalty and slaughter. Japan and the Arashikage Clan had brought all of his efforts to fruition. At least, until Tommy's murder of the Master and his own part in the betrayal.

He shifted his gaze downward towards the pooling stream. His distorted reflection wavered before him; almost palatable to him in the forgiving ripple. The Arashikage Clan was broken and scattered to the winds. A stab of self-doubt, familiar as it was private; The sense that he would always fall short when it mattered. Just that simply, the inner stillness, the tentative presence, evaporated completely.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Silence

It was the heat leaking from her bones that jerked her eyes open with a start. She'd dozed she realized. The amber light creeping through the trees was all that remained of the afternoon. Silly girl, sleeping like a hound dog. The quiet made her drowsy. She just wasn't used to the lack of civilization. It was so silent here, especially with Snake-Eyes as her only company. The corner of her mouth rose slightly, and she glanced around, reorienting, and searching for her companion.

Snake-Eyes had given up his chosen spot by the stream. Scarlett shifted her eyes instinctively upstream, and saw him. The loose gray trousers he wore blended in with the gathering evening, though his pale skin, ground black with dirt in some places, stood out. He sat, half straddled on the edge of a rock jut, his back bowed in repose and his hands braced on his spread knees. He presented the picture of a man lost in thought, staring sightlessly down the leaf and tree dotted hillside drop.

She straightened up and cricked her neck, rolling one shoulder before pivoting around and off her own rock to drop the seven feet to the path leading to his side. Approaching on the left side, she couldn't read his mood. The mottled scarring pulled the line of his eye down and back, and twisted the side of his mouth off center. It effectively cloaked his expression. He wasn't meditating though, and so she approached him, hands jammed into her pockets.

"Penny for your thoughts soldier?" She stepped up onto the wide rock next to him, gazing out over the drop with him. He didn't speak at first, and then her peripheral caught his slight hand movement, making her shift her eyes to catch his words. "Nothing." His body tone was rather despondent. "Just sitting." She regarded him. His fingers were scrubbed and dark with soil.

She curled her lips faintly. "Just sitting…hmf. Here I thought you were come up with that great master plan. World peace. The great American novel." Her southern drawl was stretched out.

He glanced at her. Even with the skewed perspective, the clicking of his tongue told her his mood was fairly pissy. "Since when have I held to an illusion of world peace…?"

She snorted, flashing teeth as she crouched down next to him, draping her elbows across her drawn knees. "Grumpy." She jerked her head in the general direction of his cabin. "….don't worry though, your secret's safe. No one will see your manuscript before it's time."

His motion was flat. "Right…."

She propped her cheek on her knuckles, looking him over with lazy-eyed matter-of-factness, debating before speaking again. "Well that settles it. When teasing you doesn't get me a smile, you gotta be wrapped up in those ironbound thoughts of yours again." She reached her free hand to lightly run the back of her wrist across his knee. "So...what? You wanna let me in on what's got you thinking so hard about 'nothing'?"

He dropped his head, exhaling slowly. Shifting forward with the weight of the world possibly, drawing his legs closer to prop his elbows on his knees he shook his head, his hands tossing the words away. "Nothing….really. Nothing I can talk about." He paused, and the heat of her gaze bored into the side of his face.

He glanced over and shook his head again as his hands stuttered. "….It's…I…"

He turned towards her fully. "Tell me something Shanna. If you had to choose between duty and your family, which one would you choose?"

She blinked.

Then she shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. Where did this come from…?" She paused, seeing his look.

She shrugged. "…I know Daddy would say, God and Country, and then Family, Amen."

She flicked her eyes to his hands as he gestured shortly. "That's not what I asked."

"Well Sweetie, I'm not sure what I'd really do when it came down to butts and bullets. But...someone has to make the sacrifice. I decided years ago it was gonna be me so my family wouldn't have to, but if I had to choose between one or the other...?" She sighed.

"It comes down to it I think...I gave my solemn oath to defend my country. And my family'd kick my butt for thinking otherwise."

As she watched his skewed expression changed from serious consideration, to something akin to sadness. He turned towards the hillside view, now fading into the gray gloom of dusk, his hands crossed and chafed his forearms repetitively.

She watched him, a thought forming as she stared at the movement of his hands. "Does this have to do with that?" She nodded towards the bands of red ink work tracing his forearm, a tattoo he'd carried as long as she'd known him.

His hands stilled.

"I'd always thought it was too unique to not mean something important to you…." She stared at him. "That white ninja…Stormshadow has one just like it doesn't he, Snake Eyes?"

White knuckles gripping his wrists was his only response. She spoke softly. "I saw part of it at Destro's castle. The familiarity didn't click, then. And then later with Hawk..." She sighed. His grip relaxed and his hands hovered, hesitating, as if he'd speak, and then he slashed his palm sideways in sharp negation.

"Leave it be Scarlett. Just…do me a favor and leave it be."

Her jaw set, and she pressed her lips together. Her cheeks were flushed. Okay, sometimes his exclusion did hurt. She huffed a resigned sigh, blinking and nodding at him as she reached up, gripping his shoulder, squeezing. "Sure Snake…I can do that" she sighed, and after a pause added, "I don't need to remind you that he's the enemy."

He glared at her. She raised her hand, "I know. I know. You know that. It's just…" He turned away. She shut her mouth, cursing inwardly.

The silence deepened, creeping around the two of them until full darkness swallowed them both in the coming chill night. Sightless in the gloom, she presently shivered and moved closer, threading her arm through his to slide around his waist. Her voice was quiet when she spoke again. "I'm not sure what is going on Snake Eyes. I can make a few educated guesses. I'll say, there are no absolutes in this world. It's seldom that our choices end up being that clear-cut. Even rarer that the consequences play out clear-cut either. All we do is make the best choices we can at the time."

She laid her head on his shoulder. "You'll make the right choice when you need to…You always have." She closed her eyes to the darkness.

Soon, his arm shifted to draw her close to him, his lips grazing her hair, bringing her inside the circle of his silence.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Spark

The blackness of the woods was total, but the path to the cabin was familiar. There'd been no hurry; they'd both needed the stillness and each other's company under the trees. In darkness, they'd paused outside to collect wood from the woodpile, and in darkness they worked familiar evening tasks. Conversation was nonexistent out of necessity and habit until the lanterns were lit, then the fire.

The fire warmed the old cabin in more ways than one, and Scarlett began to revisit her former state of relaxation. Down times were few and far between and she was too much of a soldier to not take advantage of opportunity when it came her way. That is of course, if her brooding companion would cooperate. The cabin offered them no distraction from one another. The close quarters magnified his earlier restlessness.

After several aborted attempts at conversation on her part while heating their canned dinner on the grate over the fire, Snake Eyes straightened up abruptly. "I'll be back. I'm going to clean up." His signed shorthand was cast half over one shoulder as he headed for the door. She grunted softly in her throat and was by his side in a second.

"No, Snake-eyes." He half looked at her. "You know what? You're done brooding tonight." She said.

He released a drawn out breath, but she leaned her body into his from behind, laying her palm over his where it held the door latch. "If I let you out that door, you're going to spend the rest of the night sitting lotus in a tree, or standing on your head under that waterfall thinking arcane thoughts."

He shook his head and raised his hand to speak, but she gave him an arched look. "We'll worry about honor and glory and Stormshadow tomorrow, hero. Right now? I want you with me." Her eyes gleamed, and her finger tapped the side of his head. "And that means /with/ me." He just stared at her.

"That's an order Sergeant..." She said.

He debated for a moment, raising his right eyebrow, then the door closed behind him, his reply barely visible in the flickering shadows by the door. "Aye-Aye Sergeant."

"Glad we have that settled." She smiled and drew him back into the room, giving him a small push towards the low table. "Let's eat. We haven't had a bite since this morning, and I don't know about you, but I'm starved."

He knelt and settled cross-legged on a woven mat before the table, not removing his footwear until just before he'd stepped onto the sanded platform supporting the table. The entire cabin was a mixture of Japanese and North American rustic, and while the furniture was decently civilized, most of the floor-space was not, making it less than practical to move about in socks or even barefoot. Following his example, Scarlett settled before the table, dishing out canned beef stew for the two of them. She smiled. Some days were easier than others.

Of course by the end of the meal, she was back to frowning at him. He was still preoccupied, she could tell from the set of his shoulders. He'd successfully deflected every attempt at refocus she'd thrown at him. Snake-Eyes wasn't even acknowledging the look of concern on her face while he cleaned up chow.

She debated leaving him be after all. Then she narrowed her eyes. There was more than one way to skin this cat. Sliding her hair back from her face she levered up from the platform to go to him. Her knowing smile, and the slowing shift of her body language broadcast her intent even as she snaked around and pressed her lips softly to his. She paused, her lips hovering over his. Frustrated with his slow response, she deepened the kiss. Shortly, he sighed and bent to her, his hands coming up to cup her jaw. She smiled, pulling back enough for their eyes to focus on each other. Her fingers traced along the tight, smooth ridges of burn scar on his cheek and jaw. Her voice was patient. "Now lover, it also occurs to me, there's more than one way to clear a troubled mind…."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5-Clearing the Mist

The smell of clover permeated. She was warm and comfortable by his side. He inhaled deeply, taking in her scent, and then curled his nose. The aroma of pungent dog wafted as well. Timber had let himself in just before dawn, whining softly in supplication before crawling his way onto the bed. Polite of him to ask permission before claiming his usual spot.

The muffled sound of her quiet snoring was relaxing, and was mirrored by the snoring grey wolf at his hip. He sighed, rolling towards her, quiescent and sluggish between the twin sources of heat in spite of the cold that gnawed where they didn't touch him. She was a cover hog. Curled up and cocooned from nose to toenails in both the sheet and quilt, a tangled length of red hair on the pillow was all of her that was visible.

Surrounded by the two of them, it was difficult to put his mind back to his concerns of the night. The softness on all sides made him feel disconnected. It was disquieting. But, reluctantly, extract himself from them he did. He paused at the foot of the bed. One of her feet slid from under her pile as she settled without his presence, the sole of her foot black from walking barefoot. His lips drew up slightly.

On the other side of the bed, Timber shifted, head lolled back to meet his gaze, waiting expectantly to see what the man would do. Snake-Eyes palmed a blade from the bedside table, and ran his fingers over his face and through his hair. With one more smile at her, he eased silently out the door.

The path to the lake was one he could walk in his sleep, so the heavy gray mist shrouding all but the few steps in front of him was no trouble. The whisper of paws on leaf litter heralded Timber's approach. The wolf barreled past like a dark missile, and was swallowed quickly by the mist once more. Snake-Eyes attempted to follow his progress, training his ears to catch any stray sound, but the wolf was gone. Timber came and went as he wished. The hunting rapport they had developed over the last five years was rusty. Snake-Eyes had not been back to the cabin in months. He wondered if that were destined to a permanent arrangement with his mounting obligations. Did he hope so?

The trail opened up before him and lake birds greeted him with studied indifference. He was unimposing enough; naked and dew-wet when he reached the water's edge. Visibility extended for only a few feet, even over the open water. Shivering, he gave himself no time to anticipate the water's bite; instead, he strode in waist deep and dove beneath the surface. The shock to his system was immediate, but triggered a calming response in him, and focused him. He swam, easily and smoothly through the water, letting it cleanse him inwardly and out.

The cold took him back to his training in Japan. The rift between Tommy and himself was as much his fault as Tommy's. He struggled to understand what he'd missed…what flaw he'd failed to see in his friend, that would lead him to murder his Uncle in cold blood. As long as he'd known Tommy, as long as he'd struggled to learn and understand the unfathomable complexities of his foster culture, there was so much he was sure he would never comprehend. His failure with Tommy was proof of that.

But he did know he had to confront Tommy --Stormshadow-- again. Stormshadow had fallen as far from honor as he could ever imagine, a traitor to his family, as well as his country.

Snake-Eyes swam more strongly, the chattering of his teeth giving way to a surface numbness and the inner heat of exertion. He would confront his brother again. And this time he would not fail him. He would hold his brother accountable for his actions, and help him regain his honor, one way or another, and in doing so both of their debts would be resolved.

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Later, sitting on the shore, he had to smile. She was right. Giving way to the senses can open a path to inner quiet. It was the quiet that made choices more clear. He breathed deeply. The air was clean. He felt peaceful as he sat, shivering slightly in the first rays of the sun. The solace was broken only by the occasional wanderings of the wildlife around him, and the sharp snapping of teeth on bone from Timber, who lay several paces away, methodically dismantling and disposing of a duck carcass.

When Timber rose abruptly to grab his breakfast in his jaws with a soft growl and trot quickly into the undergrowth, Snake-Eyes tilted his ear towards the path to the cabin in anticipation. Presently he could hear her soft steps approaching.

The quilt she dropped over his shoulders was still warm from her body heat. He nodded up at her, tucking the edges around him. She sat next to him, crouching close, dressed in a pair of sweats and his black fatigue shirt, the sleeves pulled down over her hands for warmth. The bruise on her face was all but gone this morning. Shifting to free one arm, he pulled her to him and bury his nose in the chaos of her uncombed hair. She yawned pleasantly, signing a good morning to him simultaneously as she stared sleepily out over the water catching the growing light as it rippled across the surface. He smiled into her hair. She made him feel normal.

Normal.

This is why she was here. This is why he brought her with him in spite of all good sense. She reminded him of what it was like to be a real man. Not a soldier, not a shadow, not a loner. Not a bad luck roll of the dice to all who got to close or crossed his purpose. How about just being a normal man for a change?

He shivered. Would he fail her? God, he hoped not. The tiny voice in the back of his skull rose again-_Leave her before you get her killed too_. He closed his eyes, his grip tightening before he realized it. He pressed the nerve deadened side of his cheek against her hair until the weight triggered phantom pain along his jaw.

He would not fail her. He hadn't yet. She pushed against him, and he drew back. She'd caught his tension and eyed him shrewdly. "What?" She said.

He was going to let himself take what she offered, because he needed it. He needed it so badly it twisted him inside…

"What…?" She said again after a pause, frowning. And he was going to use it to take away all his doubts, and fears of Fate. He would….

"Wh….?"

He pulled her close and kissed her hard and decisively. She squeaked, her hand caught between them, but he didn't release her until they both had to come up for air, and he'd calmed himself once more.

"whuh..." She said again, slightly dazed.

"I'm hungry." He signed. "Let's go eat."

She let out a slow sigh, her eyebrow rising with her smile. "Breakfast, huh?"

He stood up, the quilt draping his shoulders loosely. He grinned as her gaze dropped southward automatically. "Yeah." He said, his hand catching her attention. "Just like that." And then, feeling lighter, he led her up the path towards the cabin.


End file.
